


We're not Friends

by fightableomo



Series: Little Witcher [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: ABDL, Age Play, Diapers, M/M, NSFW, Non-Sexual Age Play, Non-Sexual Kink, Omorashi, ask to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22652395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightableomo/pseuds/fightableomo
Summary: The inspiration for this IS the line where Jaskier says he has applied chamomile to Geralt's bare bottom. The bum is an easily reached place, so Geralt could have done it himself, but he let Jaskier do it for an obvious reason. He wanted his daddy to take care of his diaper rash.This is a kink fic, read and understand the tags before reading. Don't like, Don't read.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Little Witcher [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641898
Comments: 28
Kudos: 225





	We're not Friends

Geralt was sat in the naughty corner on a little stool. Granted, this was the first time out in the inn the two were staying in, and the naughty corner was newly christened by this. 

The white haired man sat patiently for a few minutes, before starting to fidget, arm crossed and pout staining his defined face. Jaskier knew that it was an act, Geralt was too used to long stakeouts to get bored after a few minutes in a chair. 

“Why am I here?” 

Jaskier didn’t look up from his writing, “Because you were mean to your friend. We don’t hit, even when we’re grumpy.”

It hadn’t been a real hit, just a smack when Geralt was getting rather grumpy at dinner. 

Even without looking, the bard could feel his scowl, “We’re not friends.” 

He hummed, “I think someone’s grumpy because they’re in time out.” 

Geralt huffed but fell silent. Twenty minutes passed before he spoke again, though he squirmed the whole while, “Sorry.” 

And just like that, time out was over. Jaskier walked over and hugged him from behind, “It’s okay, daddy forgives you.” 

He placed a hand on his forearm as a sign of reciprocation and let out a soft grunt, acknowledging his words, but not wanting to speak. 

That was fine, Jaskier would speak for both of them. “Do you want daddy to give you a nice bath? Then we can curl up and go to sleep. I have your plushie in my bag.” 

The bard spoke sweetly to his little boy as he prepared the bath and went to undress him. It was only when he got to his pants that he realized that Geralt’s squirming might not have been all an act. 

His black trousers were distinctly wet and smelled faintly of piss. They weren’t sopping or warm, leading Jaskier to believe this accident was quite a few hours old. He hummed, “Geralt, darling, when did you go potty?”

He averted his golden eyes and mumbled something.

“Use your big boy words please.” 

“This evening. When we got to town.” 

He hummed, “So you’ve been wet for a few hours now? Why didn’t you tell me? We could have had a bath before dinner. Or I could have taken you to pee when we got to town.” 

That was met with a noncommittal grunt. 

Jaskier sighed and helped him fully out of his, then into the bath, noticing the red skin starting to take over his groin and inner thighs. 

“You need to tell daddy when you have accidents, or I can’t tell.” His pants were too dark, and with all the smells of livestock in the market and just general city smells, it was hard to pin down if it was Geralt who smelled of potty pants, or someone else. 

He started to wash his little boy, taking car to wipe down his whole body and scrub his hair, gently massaging his scalp. He could feel the larger man start to relax under his ministrations, his eyes closed and jaw finally unclenching. 

Jaskier hummed as he washed him, expecting to have a moment of quiet, but Geralt spoke up just as he finished rinsing him off. “We’re still not friends.”

“Of course we are, I just bathed you.” He held his hand as he got out of the tub and started to dry him off. 

Once he was dry, Jaskier handed him a stuffed horse, one with the same patterning as Roach, something to keep him company while his boy was in the stables. 

He also grabbed one of the cloth diapers from his bag and the chamber pot from the foot of the bed. 

Geralt was standing by the tub, still naked and clutching his toy. He waited calmly for his daddy to tell him what to do. 

The bard nudged the chamber pot with his foot and did just that. “Come use the potty before I diaper you. I’m not putting you in one of these just to have you wet yourself and immediately need a change.”

He gave the barest hint of a nod and went to sit down. His knees came up, not quite to his chest, but rather closer to his navel. With a light blush, embarrassed by the position, he started to tinkle. 

Once he was done, Jaskier smiled and clapped a little, “Good job, we’ll get you potty trained yet. But for now, I think it’s best you stay in diapers for nights.” He laid the diaper, unfolded on the bed and went to grab something else from his bag. 

Geralt dutifully went and laid on top of the diaper, still holding the plush Roach to his chest. He stared at the ceiling, blushing faintly. 

Jaskier came back and kneeled between his strong legs. Instead of just fastening the padding like normal, he grabbed one leg by the knee and pushed it up, showing off Geralt’s bottom. “Legs up.” 

He lifted his legs up, curling his knees towards his chest to give Jaskier ample access to his rump. He didn’t quite know why, but he was willing to be a good boy for tonight. He did let out a bit of a startled noise as something cold and wet touched him. 

Craning his head, he could see Jaskier applying some lotion to his reddened skin. “What’s that.” 

“Chamomile. Poor baby gave himself a diaper rash, and I’m taking care of it. It’s what friends do.” 

“We’re not friends.” He repeated his mantra, something Jaskier knew was more of a call for reassurance in these moments. 

“We are, you trust me enough to put you in the diapers you need.” 

Geralt hummed and looked back to the ceiling, trying to ignore his blush. Soon enough, he was padded and in a nightshirt. 

He stayed on the bed, idly petting Roach the Smaller while Jaskier got himself ready for bed. 

The bard came back over and sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching over and taking the pale haired man’s hand, “Come over and cuddle daddy for a minute.” 

He let himself be pulled over and maneuvered into his lap. He ended up straddling Jaskier, resting his head on his shoulder. He did have to curl up a bit. He was careful to keep most of his weight on his knees, afraid to hurt his daddy’s legs. 

He did let the man support him a bit. One hand was on his bottom, rhythmically patting his padded rear, the other rubbing his back. Geralt, on the other hand, kept his hands to himself. His arms were still just for holding his toy, but he did eventually reach one arm around to clutch at the fabric at the back of the bards nightshirt.

Again, he spoke his quiet mantra, “We’re not friends.” 

Jaskier just hummed, “You’re just grumpy. You’re tired. You’ll feel differently in the morning.” 

Again, the two shifted, this time, the candles were blown out and they were cuddled up, Geralt being the little spoon, with Roach being the smallest spoon. 

It was comfortable, but again, Geralt voiced his weak protests. “We’re not friends.” 

Jaskier hummed, a bit sleepily, bringing his arm that wasn’t draped around his waist to play with his hair. “Does it matter? You’re my friend, and I love you. Even if you don’t like me, I’m here. I’m doing my job as a daddy and making you feel loved, even if you’re a brat and don’t love me back. We’re friends, and if we weren’t, I’d still be here. Okay?”

A beat of silence passed, but Geralt did offer his reply, “Okay.” 

With a satisfied sigh, he kissed the back of his neck and tried to fall asleep.


End file.
